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Sunday, February 04, 2024

Japanese Film Festival 2024: We Made a Beautiful Bouquet (Nobuhiro Doi, 2021)

 

Note: some spoilers.

There's a part in Nobuhiro Doi's We Made a Beautiful Bouquet where Kinu (Kasumi Arimura) finds out that one of her favorite bloggers has died. Said blogger often (perhaps cynically) talked about the end of love, that every love story's beginning is the beginning of the end, that all love stories have an expiry date. This love story is no exception: in fact, the very beginning of the film has its two protagonists dating other people, the entire film being a flashback of the five years leading up to that point. This is not a story of love that endured forever; this is love that has run its course and has arrived at its natural conclusion.

You wouldn't know it from the start, though: this film features one of the most romantic meet cutes in contemporary Japanese cinema. Kinu and her soon-to-be boyfriend Mugi (Masaki Suda) feel like they were born to be with each other, with their two actors bringing their A-game to the proceedings. I half-joke, but the only time where I saw Masaki Suda have more chemistry with his co-star was either with Renn Kiriyama or Nana Komatsu.

But things take a turn for the worse, and perhaps either by design or coincidence, the film gives us a clue to what dooms the relationship. Over time, Kinu and Mugi's relationship changes, and during one disastrous movie date, Kinu has that realization. The movie they are watching is Aki Kaurismaki's The Other Side of Hope (2017). We Made a Beautiful Bouquet feels like a response to Kaurismaki's romantic films that portray working class people striving to make ends meet in a bleak world. It joins films like Never Not Love You (2018) that show the detrimental effects of the ever increasing demands of labor on a young population. "Just endure it for five years and it'll be easy," a sempai tells Mugi as they drive around the prefecture, but what he doesn't tell Mugi is that it's not easy because the work will be simpler, things will be easy because he will have been numbed to the culture. While Kaurismaki optimistically believes in the endurance of love despite living in a capitalist world in films like Fallen Leaves (2023), in this film, at least in part, capitalism is the end of love. It kills something fundamental within us, where trying to make a living prevents us from just living, where marriage becomes a compromise rather than a commitment.

But the film does not end on a bleak note.  Breakups can be planned in advance and treated with positivity, but they are hardly a clean break. Even though the love is gone, the act of having loved will never go away. Still, as long as it wasn't abusive, there's nothing wrong with treating past relationships with gratitude, because (hopefully) you and your partner changed each other for the better, and you will carry that to your next relationship, and to the next. The author Ranata Suzuki once said that "your heart is a mosaic of everyone you've ever loved," and this film takes it to heart.

Tuesday, January 09, 2024

Present Confusion 2023 Roundup Part 2: Philippine Cinema Favorites

 


2023 was a year of regrowth for Philippine Cinema. 160 films were released in theaters, streaming or limited runs this year, surpassing output even in pre-pandemic times. A large chunk of these films were Vivamax releases of various levels of quality. While various other streaming services had their own productions (Netflix with a couple of romantic films and the Keys to the Heart remake, Amazon Prime with a slate of their own through collaborations with ANIMA studios and the Ideafirst Company,) Vivamax's streaming output was seconded only by the now defunct AQ Prime, who stopped releasing films near the middle of the year. Another streaming startup, Goblin films, started and stopped with only Jay Altarejos' The Last Resort as its sole would-be offering.

In the relative absence of new feature film-centric film festivals, feature lengths from the surviving post pandemic festivals (Cinemalaya, MMFF) had to step up. QCinema, despite being still the best film fest in the country, has not yet returned to holding a competition local feature films. The newly established Manila Film Festival (not to be confused with the MMFF) debuted with a slew of poorly made student productions which barely got any buzz from audiences outside of the filmmakers themselves.

Cinemalaya was by far the festival that stepped up the most. Buoyed by funding from the FDCP and a film lab to further refine the potential films, Cinemalaya fielded one of its best (if not the best) lineups in its 19 year history. The only downside would be the festival's move to the PICC as the CCP underwent renovation - a good decision for a festival for people to meet up and talk, but not so much a film festival, as PICC venues are not designed for film screenings. If it still takes place at the PICC, next year's Cinemalaya should be sponsored by Salonpas.

One of the year's biggest surprises was the MMFF, which, in the absence of films by either Vice Ganda and Vic Sotto, still managed to gross 1 billion pesos at the box office. Lines to the cinema are still long to this day, after the festival's run was supposed to end. While it looks like box office is still skewed towards a couple of high performers, the outcome of the festival may be a good sign that Filipinos aren't necessarily beholden to a few people - give them good stories that they can watch with their families and they'll come.

Admittedly, I don't have the stamina I once had, but I endeavored to watch every single Filipino film released in Filipino theaters in some capacity in 2023, and thanks to friends over at the Society of Filipino Film Reviewers (SFFR), I have actually managed to do so - with the exception of Crisanto Aquino's Instant Daddy, I have watched every 2023 Filipino film released in theaters. The operative phrase there is "released in theaters," as unfortunately, I have not had the time to watch all of the films released through streaming - a couple of colleagues have, however, watched way more Vivamax films than I have, and I recommend going to letterboxd to check out their reviews. By the time this three part writeup is finished, I will have watched approximately 120 out of those 160 Filipino films, which is a clean 75%.

Honorable mentions (in no particular order) include: About Us But Not About Us (dir. Jun Lana), the last two segments of Shake Rattle and Roll Extreme (various directors), Mallari (dir. Derick Cabrido), Essential Truths of the Lake (dir. Lav Diaz) and National Anarchist Lino Brocka (dir. Khavn).

Anyway, on to this list: any film, whether released on streaming or in a theater counts, and this is a list that belongs only to me, as you might have a very different list because everyone is different. Short films are not included here; they will be featured in a separate list in the third part of this writeup. Without further ado, here is

John Tawasil's

TEN FAVORITE FILIPINO FILMS OF 2023

10. Love You Long Time (dir. JP Habac) - Habac's timey-wimey romance of two lovers whose worlds don't exactly align stayed with me the longest, after its surprise ending recontextualized its entire conceit. Also, Habac manipulates the frame - further experimentation from his earlier Dito at Doon - to emphasize its characters' distance.


9. Kampon (dir. King Palisoc) - perhaps the weirdest Filipino horror movie of 2023, and I mean that in a good way. Kampon externalizes the various anxieties of parenthood into a malevolent, demonic force. 

8. Gomburza (dir. Pepe Diokno) - a history film that stands in contrast to Jerrold Tarog's duology (Heneral Luna, Goyo) where its focus on historical fact is a reflection of its stance on truth and truth telling; an interrogation of martyrdom and how simply believing in what is right or becoming a symbol for change reverberates throughout generations.


7. Nowhere Near (dir. Miko Revereza) - what starts with Revereza's continued exploration as a stateless individual, navigating neoliberal immigration policies in America (the rollercoaster scene still lives in my brain rent free) evolves into something entirely different once Revereza comes home, or rather, comes near a perceived ideal of "home" but never really reaches it. "Home" is a bunch of cracked, dilapidated steps - the last vestiges of history, eroded by colonial tides.


6. Ang Duyan ng Magiting (dir. Dustin Celestino) - discoursive, provocative - Celestino's latest navigates through all the complicated nuances of nationalism, and how it can be closely intertwined with violence of all sorts.


5. Huling Palabas (dir. Ryan Machado) - metamorphosis, coming of age, a record of transition from one era to the next, Huling Palabas shows time, place and person all in a state of flux, with at least the latter settling into a sense of knowing, in some capacity, one's place in the world.


4. Iti Mapukpukaw (dir. Carl Joseph Papa) - our entry to the Academy Awards' best foreign film is one of the best choices in this year's lineup of films: an examination of trauma that isn't afraid of going to dark places; a tender and loving testament to how understanding (or at least, the attempt to understand) ultimately leads to healing. One of the best endings of any Filipino film this year.

3. Third World Romance (dir. Dwein Baltazar) - sadly overlooked by mainstream audiences, Third World Romance finds common ground with another exceptional film from world cinema: Aki Kaurismaki's Fallen Leaves - where two people, chained to the unfair demands of a capitalist society, try to find happiness in each other.

2. As if It's True (dir. John Rogers) - to me, As if It's True is an essential film that captures the nebulous state of truth in online spaces, the creation of virtual images and online personas, and the creation of subjective realities in the backdrop of a post-truth society. Its manipulation of form to further blur that distinction between what is true and what is not is unmatched by any other film that I've seen this year.

1. Gitling (dir. Jopy Arnaldo) - anyone who knows me will probably figure out my choice for favorite 2023 film of the year. In my opinion, it's not even close. Wrapped in a familiar, romantic package, Gitling is an exploration of language, in how language shared helps us form bonds and share experiences, how the structure of language itself shares its DNA with how we deal with metatextuality in film, in the process of how we intuit the construction of sentences is not all that different in how we intuit the endings of films made many times before. Its final frames are haunting, layered with meaning, so much so that instead of watching a few more of those 160 films, I opted to watch Gitling one more time - and it's time well spent.

***

Usually the remaining segment of this roundup is spent on documenting the weirdest and worst moments in Philippine Cinema, but this time let's do something different. For the final part of this 2023 roundup, I want to tell a few stories about movies that I saw this year (both good and bad), and, a few words about the future of this blog. Stay tuned.

Friday, January 05, 2024

Present Confusion 2023 Roundup Part 1: World Cinema Favorites

 


Another year of great movies done. Hi. regular readers of this blog. It's time for me to tell you about all the films I liked in 2023.

Let's mix it up a little. In previous iterations of this roundup, we've put the world cinema selections for last. This time, let's make it first. Why? I just want to. And give that I have an announcement at the end of part 3, there's a bit of a reason for this specific order.

I think in terms of movie watching, 2023 is the first year where we truly found ourselves free of the coronavirus pandemic. And by "free", I mean the virus is totally still everywhere (transmitted even more in its entire history by some accounts) but most of us pretend it isn't there because we're all tired of this shit. People returning to the cinemas categorically includes annoying people, and predictably, twoish years of isolation in our homes messed us up in ways we are still beginning to discover. I have also been guilty of this at times, I am no saint, sometimes I even annoy myself.

Something also shifted the moviegoing public's preferences this year. For some reason, Hollywood tentpole franchise films are no longer the guaranteed financial successes that they were before the pandemic. Disney was hit hard by this shift, with many of their releases (including several movies from their vaunted MCU) barely making a fraction of their budget, and a pittance compared to their past box office glories. Audiences found themselves drawn to biopics such as Oppenheimer and relatively well constructed commercial products like Barbie.

Streaming in festival spaces died down as more festivals returned to face to face screenings, with hybrid setups rare or even gone in some instances. Various film industries geared up their production, but only time will tell how the landscape will change from here on in.

This list includes all my favorite 2023 films that I saw in the past year; any 2022 film is counted; and ranking is relatively loose and based more on vibes than anything else. I used to say "favorites, not best" but heck, my favorite films are the best to me. This list does not include Filipino films, that's in a separate list. Also because I'm a weeb (or something), a lot of these films are from Japan. Go figure.

here is a list of

John Tawasil's

25 WORLD CINEMA FAVORITES 2023 EDITION

25. Shayda (dir. Noora Niasari) - many of the films on this list are hewn from personal experiences. Based on the director's personal experiences in a women's shelter, Shayda is a prayer for breath in a suffocating world where freedom feels like a distant dream.

24. Animalia (dir. Sofia Alaoui) - Animalia is also about seeking freedom - this ambitious, imaginative mix of science fiction, horror and Islamic eschatology depicts metaphorical birds in metaphorical cages, where the end of the world ironically gives them what they need, though not necessarily what they want..

23. Past Lives (dir. Celine Song) - this was dangerously close to not being included in this list, but I do so after a rewatch where I fixated on John Magaro's character, where I read the film not necessarily as a story about fated love, but a film about endless regret; a film not necessarily about immigrants, but a film about trying to understand them; not necessarily a film about those who leave and those left behind, but instead about the people who choose to stay and the people who keep those people where they are. 

22. The First Slam Dunk (dir. Takehiko Inoue) - Slam Dunk fans have been waiting years - even decades - for a final conclusion to the story, and this is a near-perfect way of doing so, Inoue proving he has a grasp of film as skilled as his grasp on manga. And even for non-fans, The First Slam Dunk is a wonderful, exhilarating film that will keep you on the edge of your seat up until that final buzzer.

21. Concrete Utopia (dir. Um Tae-hwa) - in the space of two hours and ten minutes, through propulsive, compelling filmmaking, Um Tae-hwa creates a microcosm of the human condition, and shows humanity in all its flawed glory: equal parts civilized and barbaric, equal parts enlightened being and savage animal all in one.

20. Lonely Glory (dir. Keitaro Sakon) - I enjoy a good villain story - or rather, a story about a protagonist so ruthless in their design, so doggedly stubborn in their desire to achieve their goal, that only in retrospect do they see the wreckage (both human or otherwise) in their wake. With a career-highlight performance by Kokoro Morita, Lonely Glory surprised me in ways I didn't expect.

19. Poor Things (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos) - Yorgos at perhaps his funniest and most twisted, Barbie without the corporate paradox and flawed iconography, a claiming of self drenched in sex and violence, messy and flawed and even problematic, but ultimately a blast to experience and autopsy its various little parts.

18. Ryuichi Sakamoto Opus (dir. Neo Sora) - one of my most personal picks in this list. Opus is my favorite concert film of the year, a solemn yet powerful goodbye to a peerless artist who gave and gave to his art until, in the end, there was nothing at all. 

17. Seventeeners (dir. Prithvi Konanur) - a harrowing portrait of two people who otherwise mean well and want to do the right thing, but whose hands are tied because of a society more concerned with appearances rather than what is right.

16. Killers of the Flower Moon (dir. Martin Scorsese) - not the best Scorsese, but still a cutting exploration of race, guilt, of perspective, heck, of storytelling itself. Dismantles its source novel's mystery setup and transforms it into an indictment of shameless white American greed.

15. The Taste of Things (dir. Tran Anh Hung) - I never expected to cry to food (in a non hangry context, mind you) this year, but I did, and for good reason. It made me happy, it made me sad, it made me hungry, and it's such a lovely depiction of the many ways we express our love.

14. Blue Giant (dir. Yuzuru Tachikawa) - I've been disappointed by many "jazz" films that only use the medium as a platform in the service of another story, but I've never seen a film that embodies Jazz itself: a chaotic yet somehow synergistic mishmash of creative energy and technical skill. In its musical sections and through a mix of 2d and 3d animation, Blue Giant captures in cinema form the essence of what Jazz is and what it means to fans of that musical genre. Remarkably, it gives up on the fight of proper adaptation - aware of the medium's shortcomings to cover everything, it depicts its source manga in an appropriately jazz-like fashion by riffing on the text. It shouldn't work, but it does, and the result is amazing.

13. Abang Adik (dir. Lay Jin Ong) - an astonishing, gripping film about what it means to be an unseen son of Malaysia whose loudest, most powerful scene is drenched in silence.

12. Shin Kamen Rider (dir. Hideaki Anno) - introspective Hideaki Anno is best Hideaki Anno. Anno frames this legendary tokusatsu hero's story as a meditation on loneliness, our desire to form relationships with an 'other', and how people are both heaven and hell in turn.

11. Io Capitano (dir. Matteo Garrone) - I expected this film to be bleak, and in a way, it is: in this oddysey, many people are left by the wayside. But what blew me away in this film by Matteo Garrone are the small glimpses of humanity, kindness and hope despite it all.


10. Jigarthanda Double X (dir. Karthik Subbaraj)
- I admit, even for a slight romantic such as myself, Karthik Subbaraj's manifesto for the power of cinema to change society is a tad too idealistic, but it's presented with such enthusiasm and love for Tamil Cinema (and cinema in general) that I couldn't help but get swept away in it all.

9. River (dir. Junta Yamaguchi) - Junta Yamaguchi has shown with his two feature films how much he enjoys playing around with the medium, telling fantastically structured stories that transcend their gimmick and are legitimately a fun time at the cinema. It's way more fun than many movies with ten times the budget, which is proof that a good movie just needs a good idea executed wonderfully.


8. Do Not Expect Too Much From The End of The World (dir. Radu Jude) - this uncompromising, biting satire of the state of Romania (in both senses of the word) and how its lessons stay unlearned in the course of generations made this one of the most surprising films I've seen this year.

7. A Man (dir. Kei Ishikawa) - one of my early favorite films of 2023, Kei Ishikawa's A Man interrogates the notion of identity through Japan's 'disappeared people,' or Jouhatsu. At times strange and obtuse yet very compelling, it is in a way a spiritual brother to Shohei Imamura's A Man Vanishes (1967).

6. Abnormal Desire (dir. Yoshiyuki Kishi) - Another film that unexpectedly blew me out of the water (was that a pun? lol) This film deals with a sensitive subject in such a tender, human way that I found it quite remarkable, showing its human characters in all their dimensions, good or bad. Also, such an unexpected turn from Yui Aragaki.

5. Perfect Days (dir. Wim Wenders) - no film has wanted me to clean toilets in Japan like this one (I may have visited one of those fantastic toilets a few days ago and left a game of tic tac toe). Wender's latest is a solemn look into the life of an ordinary man who chooses to stop as the world moves around him; a rock quietly sitting in a raging stream.


4. Godzilla Minus One (dir. Takashi Yamazaki) - my favorite franchise film of the year that is frankly light years beyond anything Hollywood has produced in 2023, if only because it recognizes spectacle unto itself does not make a good movie, that metatextuality has ruined the notion of American blockbuster filmmaking, that good characters always elevate a decent movie into an excellent one, and that people aren't exactly tired of franchise films - they're tired of bad ones. RRR showed Hollywood that lesson last year, hopefully they'll get the message this time.

3. Not Friends (dir. Atta Hemwadee) - In the past few years Thailand always had a place in this list, usually for a film that reaches beyond its mainstream bounds and achieves something quite lovely. What starts off as a fun love letter to filmmaking shifts in its second act into an examination of friendship itself, and how we move and inspire each other in small yet profound, invisible yet deeply felt ways. I can only speak for myself, but I found it all deeply moving.

2. Evil Does Not Exist (dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi) - Hamaguchi's examination of human nature, on the nature and perception of 'evil', and the violence imposed by capitalist interest on indigenous and rural spaces is riveting cinema that lives in my mind rent free ever since I watched it a few months ago.

1. Monster (dir. Hirokazu Kore-eda) - what is a monster? A parent who acts out only in loving service to their child? An education system that devours well-meaning educators and strips them of the ability to express their empathy? Misunderstood people who only want the opportunity to love? Or a society that shuns anyone who strays from the norm? In gentle yet devastating strokes, Kore-eda paints a picture where everyone is seen as a monster in their own ways, but are only human beings trying to live out their lives the way they want.

***

Next up is a list of 10 of my favorite Filipino Films so stay tuned for that.

Tuesday, January 02, 2024

MMFF 2023 | Becky and Badette

 

Becky (Eugene Domingo) and Badette (Pokwang) live relatively humdrum lives as janitresses for a corporation. On the side, they try to pursue their dreams: Becky makes music and Badette goes to various auditions. But success is elusive for the duo, and they are mostly left either unrecognized or looked down upon by their peers.

That changes, however, when during a class reunion, Becky makes a drunken statement saying that she and Badette are in a relationsihp. Their story inspires many and the two gain the stardom they've always wished for - but success based on a lie eternally teeters on a precipice, and some people begin to plot their downfall.

First and foremost, Jun Lana's Becky and Badette is a comedy, and in my opinion, a good one - ever since I saw Pokwang and Eugene Domingo together earlier this year in Lana's Ten Little Mistresses, I wanted a film with these two. It works, though perhaps the comedy would be better served if Lana let go of his restraint a lot more (Wenn Deramas' absence is deeply felt here.) Nevertheless, there are references to many films both old and new, especially Danny Zialcita's T-Bird at Ako, from which this story draws inspiration.

There is a little quirk as the film reaches its climax, where Becky realizes something about herself, though sadly the thought isn't explored as much as I would have wanted.

But the film also asks a question of us: who should tell the stories of queer people? The obvious answer is that queer or LGBTQ+ people should be able to tell their own stories. In faking their relationship, not only are they profiting from this lie, but they contribute indirectly to the erasure of queer stories. Aside from that, Lana emphasizes the importance of accountability for such actions - otherwise, without it, people may be emboldened to do it again.

The ownership of stories is important. When one owns a story and when the work of art that emerges accurately portrays one's lived experiences, that is representation, and nothing is more important. My thoughts stray back towards T-Bird at Ako. It's writer, Portia Ilagan, is a member of the LGBTQ community. Even in the eighties, despite the limitations of a conservative and creatively limiting society, we gave spaces for queer and LGBTQ creatives to tell their stories. In a candy coated, 'mainstream' comedic wrapper, Becky and Badette reminds us that that idea will always be important.

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

MMFF 2023 | Penduko, Kampon, When I Met You In Tokyo, Mallari

 

Created by national artist Francisco Conching, the character of Pedro Penduko draws from a rich tapestry of Filipino folklore. Using his skills, insight and magical tools, Pedro Penduko uses his abilities to fight evil and protect the land. Perhaps Filipinos will be familiar with earlier versions of the character, such as a two movie series where Janno Gibbs played the titular hero, or the long running TV series starring Matt Evans. Either way, this film seems like an interesting way to reintroduce the character to a whole new generation of fans. But what ultimately happens to many superhero films - a long production process and script changes - seems to have happened here in some capacity, leading to a pastiche of superhero and franchise tropes that work in some parts, while faltering in others.

Penduko (Matteo Guidicelli) lives an otherwise unremarkable life in the city, using his powers to get high and scam perya employees (not necessarily in that order). Helping fellow bettors is 'collateral damage', as he usually does this for his own gain. One day, he is recruited into a secret organization of local sorcerers whose task is to ostensibly fight evil and protect the good guys.

This part of the film looks like it draws from many different sources: Harry Potter, My Hero Academia, similar school-themed anime and other media. Penduko is a bright student and he learns to excel in healing and warding off curses, which is done as fights in a separate virtual/mental space. At least in this regard, the worldbuilding works well to create an interesting milieu for our friends to play in.

But then one notices that the uniforms are military coded, and sorcerers are referred to as agents. The subtext isn't very subtle here. Penduko then finds itself under the umbrella of a different organization, one that operates 'outside' the fantasy world's 'law,' but one that, in essence, isn't as different as the organization he originally came from. The movie comments on the notion of systems and groups (meant for the common good of all) that are ultimately co-opted in the service of a few. The film also asks the moral question of how exactly do we go about extinguishing a clear and present evil: that is, if we become tainted by that evil in the process, is it worth it? Does the end truly justify the means?

That's all and good, but unfortunately, like director Jason Paul Laxamana's other forays into genre (Pwera Usog, Instalado) they serve as setup for an idea that's not completely fleshed out by the end. What happens to the organizations Penduko leaves? What about his friends? What are the repercussions of the events of the film in this world that I honestly want to explore more? This film feels like the first part of a series and is barely a self contained story. If Viva has plans to expand the series that would be fine, but if the series stops here, then that would be very unfortunate. This isn't necessarily Penduko's problem, but a problem of franchise filmmaking in general.

Matteo Guidicelli does his best in the role, but I feel he is miscast (if anything, he'd be a good fit for the character of Saki, I think). His being a half foreign actor playing a half foreign character seems to be a holdover from a past version of the script, when James Reid was still attached to the role and the character was depicted having a mixed heritage. I don't think Reid would've been an improvement over Guidicelli, though given that the premise of the film (and Penduko's heritage?) is now different, maybe someone else would be suited for the role. Heck, Alamat did a great ending song for this film, get one of them to play the part.

Penduko feels like a film from MMFF's past. It has a ton of very interesting ideas, but the ideas don't always work out.

When I was a child I always imagined having at least three children - maybe a boy and two girls. Decades later, I no longer want children - in this economy? With my pittance of an income? But relatives and friends often ask me and my wife when we're going to have children. We mostly avoid the question now as we don't want to waste time on arguments.

For Clark (Derek Ramsay) and Eileen (Beauty Gonzalez), it's the opposite - they want to have a family but they can't. Clark's impotence weighs down on him, and after many attempts at IVF, he's all but given up and the couple is considering adoption. The first half of the film builds on this tension, wrapped in mundane domesticity, as the two of them grapple with that and various other family matters.

That all changes when Jade (Erin Espiritu) comes to the home. Jade's appearance upends the family dynamic, and while Eileen dotes on the child, Clark is disturbed as he discovers that he has a connection with the child.

Kampon bears many of the hallmarks of its writer Dodo Dayao (Midnight in a Perfect World, Violator). The film finds its terror in strangeness, in weird, unsettling things lurking in the background, in things from which we derive safety ("footage horror" - that is, scary images on recorded media, on CCTV screens and elsewhere - has a steady presence in the film). The film also alludes to the terrors of parenthood, showing us the fears and anxieties of raising a child. There's one scene at a birthday party where a belligerent, spoiled child makes unreasonable demands - a scene that honestly scares me as much as any decapitated corpse (owing to my job occasionally autopsying people, I honestly prefer the corpse).

It's quite unlike anything we've ever seen in the MMFF, and it makes for a legitimately entertaining experience. There are some parts where the film's ambition outpaces its resources. For example, an animated picture of a fetus might have been better rendered in live action, and while the CGI works most of the time, sometimes it doesn't. But that's not necessarily a bad thing; if anything we need more ambition in this festival, and Kampon is brimming with it.

In a strictly formalist sense, there isn't much to say about When I Met You in Tokyo. There isn't much conflict in this movie for its two characters, played by the venerable on screen couple of Christopher De Leon and Vilma Santos. Their issues (mostly with their family members back home) are neatly resolved by the first hour mark. In addition, the film doesn't touch too much upon their lives as overseas workers - the Japanese people who work with and employ them accept them wholeheartedly (one even repeatedly gives Christopher De Leon gifts for some reason or another.)

But the film serves its intended purpose. I watched this film at the Premier Cinemas at the Shangri-la Mall. For those not in the know, cinema prices at the Premier Cinemas are pricier than this upscale mall's normal cinemas. Nevertheless, the theater was mostly full, and mostly consisted of middle aged and elderly women - including myself, I counted three men, and the other two came with what I assume are their wives. I'd even bet that I was the youngest person in the theater aside from the ushers. These are people who have probably spent most of their lives with these two actors, from Tag-ulan sa Tag-Araw (1975) to Dekada '70 (2002). 

At one point in the movie, when Azon (Santos) and Joey (De Leon) were frolicking in the snow, the woman in front of me exclaimed, "ang ganda!" She was probably referring to the snow, but probably also to the couple, who at this point had spent 90 minutes being cute together. The crowd laughed every time the two of them called each other "bru" (short for bruha/brujo), an insult that eventually became a term of endearment. They laughed at the jokes and the light ribbing, they felt kilig at the various jabs, and the thing is, it's hard not to get swept in that emotion - by the time the film ended, I was 100% with that crowd, vicariously living this screen couple's romance. Even if, as a person who reviews films, I find the film flawed or lacking, it nevertheless fills up all the places that it should.

The first half of Derick Cabrido's Mallari is a whirlwind of various scenes that at times feels too convoluted: there's the serial killer priest (Piolo Pascual) who killed 57 people in the 1800s, there's his descendant John Rey (also Piolo Pascual) who is obsessed with finding out the truth behind his infamous ancestor, and there's Jonathan (also Piolo Pascual), who is haunted by future visions where his fiancee Agnes (Janella Salvador) lies dying. The three are connected by a dark secret, but what is it? Why are people still dying in this small town in Laguna even though the killer priest has long passed on?

This first half is the weakest part of the film as it tries to set everything up. As it plods along its three central plotlines, it occasionally veers into filler that only serves to pad the runtime and does little to advance the plot. It is also plagued by frequent and honestly unnecessary jump scares as Jonathan and John Rey are haunted by various apparitions - the ghosts of their ancestor's victims.

But once everything falls into place, something wonderful emerges. Mallari is one of my favorite films in this year's festival, if only for its sprawling ambition and how it manages to meet that ambition in many parts. A mix of alternate history fiction, fantasy and horror, Mallari brings us a singular MMFF experience that has probably never been seen in any previous edition of the festival, and will be unmatched for years to come.

Aside from the various liberties to historical events, I appreciated the fact that the three main characters are not one-sidedly good or evil - in fact, even the characters that are overtly antagonistic do what they do not out of malice, but out of justice: they want to cleanse the world of evil, and this is the means that they will take to achieve that goal. Interestingly, in terms of theme, Mallari sets out to make the same point as Penduko, (the ends justifying the means, getting tainted by evil by extinguishing evil) but this time the film succeeds in doing so. Righteousness is not always good - it only means a dogged belief that one is right, regardless of whether that belief is warranted or not, or whether or not that belief springs from a good place.



Tuesday, December 26, 2023

MMFF 2023 | Broken Hearts Trip, Rewind, Firefly, Family of Two

 

Broken Hearts Trip opens with auditions for the titular reality show, where three "judgers" (Tart Carlos, Jacklyn Jose and Christian Bables) try to weed out contestants based on their sad stories. Many contestants are just there for the clout and are quickly dismissed, but the panel quickly zeroes in on four contestants: Ali (Marvin Yap), who loses his business and his lover over a series of unfortunate events; Alex (Andoy Ranay), a businessman who repeatedly goes back to a partner who cheats on him; Bernie (Iyah Mina), a clothing designer who falls in love with a younger man who uses her for her money; and Mark (Petite); who loses custody of his child with his partner (Arnold Reyes) due to their separation.

The introductions to these characters made me empathize with their individual stories, and there's a lot here to appreciate. For one, the world of Broken Hearts trip is one where same sex partnerships are at least recognized to some extent (in Mark's case, where there is talk of custody and a lawyer is present) and how, in the absence of partnership, some LGBTQ+ people become breadwinners and caretakers for their families (in Bernie's story).

The movie, then, has an opportunity to explore the lives of these people through their individual heartbreaks. But here is where the movie disappointingly falls apart: because it is a reality show competition, the whole enterprise feels exploitative (the characters even lampshade that fact in one particular scene and a running gag has Bables repeatedly naming sponsors.) Not everyone gets adequate time (a fifth contestant, Jason (Teejay Marquez) barely gets any scenes, and he lasts pretty far) and while some contestants get at least some measure of closure, others, frustratingly, get nothing. It's made even worse by the twist reveal of a sixth broken heart, which makes all these stories moot, as if they, sob stories and all, were just used for an ulterior end.

That's not all: there's a shocker in the middle of this film where a television production admits to covering up literal crimes happening on the set, though thankfully it backtracks later on, perhaps aware of the problematic nature of that idea. It still comes across as pretty weird, considering the details of what happened.

It's a shame, because there are so many things in this movie that could've made for a good film: part of the credits is a musical sequence that isn't half bad; why not lean on that? Why not just remove the reality show elements and make it a roadtrip (sponsored by LCL travel and tours) instead? Or maybe even trim down the number of 'participants' to the most interesting stories? My heart was broken watching Broken Hearts Trip because it holds the promise of so much more, but falls short of achieving that.

Note: Spoilers.

John (Dingdong Dantes) is a businessman who is always on the go, to the detriment of his relationships with his loving wife Mary (Marian Rivera) and his son Austin (Jordan Lim.) It all comes to a head when several unfortunate events befall John, leading to a car accident that takes the life of his wife. It is there where he meets a certain quirky carpenter with time travel powers (Pepe Herrera) who allows him to live the day before the accident - but at a substantial personal cost...

Many people have made comparisons between Mae Cruz-Alviar's Rewind and Gil Junger's 2004 film If Only, and I totally agree - this is just If Only but with Jesus Christ as a supporting character. The religious aspects affect the story as now there is a reason for the time travel and there is supposed to be a moral lesson behind it.

While this series of events will probably be okay for some, to me it feels a little weird. John's arc throughout the film is a redemptive one, and even though the film makes it clear that no one can truly change in one day, his death (and not necessarily his actions) is the catalyst for his family to thrive - Jesus just up and makes poor John a martyr for a greater purpose. In GomBurZa, it works but here it feels a little off, since John isn't necessarily standing for some greater ideology or belief, he's just a dude who neglected his family and wants to set things right, and he can only achieve that by dying? In the hands of an omnipotent deity that can do everything, wouldn't it be more productive to, you know, let John be an even better person? Here it seems like he's a blood sacrifice, blood for the blood god. 

Various other storylines suffer because of the limited time John has during his second change. A meaningful exchange with his estranged father (Lito Pimentel) hints at a deeper history between the two - and parallels between John and his mother who died early - but it goes by a little too fast. Mary's own desire to return to being a chef is also hinted at, but is mostly reduced to dialogue. Maybe Rewind could have been better served if it modified the structure of If Only a little more to let its characters breathe.

But hey, I'm not going to go all doom and gloom in here. The melodramatic aspects of the film worked for me, mostly thanks to the chemistry between real life husband and wife Dingdong Dantes and Marian Rivera, and there were moments in this film where I felt legitimately emotional. Heck, I even called my wife after watching the film, and remembering certain moments and emotions from Rewind, hours after having watched it, still made me feel the feels. It's okay but overall has some flaws.

Tonton (Euwenn Mikaell) is a bright young boy who loves drawing and listening to stories from his mother (Alessandra de Rossi.) But one day, his mother suffers from a short illness and dies, promising to meet him again in an island of fireflies. Spurred by the notion of possibly seeing his mother again, he escapes and takes a road trip to that location, meeting various people along the way.

Zig Dulay's Firefly is bookended and interspersed with scenes featuring an adult Tonton (Dingdong Dantes), who recalls his experience to an editorial assistant (Max Collins) whose boss believes that Tonton's stories don't belong to him or were otherwise lifted from somewhere else. There's no indication why that person would think that way and it eventually becomes a non issue, so I am not sure why it needs to be here. It's not necessarily detrimental, merely unnecessary.

We all love a good story, and we all love listening to good storytellers. Good stories help the heart heal, help us confront our traumas, and help soothe painful pasts. Tonton's companions, who help him in his journey, all have their own individual tales to tell - they are people reeling from betrayal, holding dark secrets, wanderlust brought about by a hesitation to return home. Perhaps most importantly, stories help uplift others, and through a mother's love as expressed through one particular story, Tonton and his companions all find something - not necessarily the thing they want, but definitely the thing they need.

The idea of a quality family friendly film in a post-Vice, post-Enteng MMFF has been floated for many years now, and in my opinion this movie embodies that. If this film represents the future of the MMFF, then it looks pretty good from here on in.

Maricar (Sharon Cuneta) and Mateo (Alden Richards) are as close a mother and son duo as they come. They tackle problems together, support each other and have a certain level of attachment (or possessiveness?) to each other, though not to unhealthy levels.

This character dynamic and this slice of life tale of an emptying nest reminds me a lot of the emptying nest-est of emptying nest films, Yasujiro Ozu's Last Spring, where an old widower looks to marry his daughter off in order to live her own life, while she'd rather stay and take care of her father. In Nuel Naval's Family of Two, the outcome of a similar situation goes in the opposite direction to Late Spring, which I attribute to cultural differences.

A potential romantic partner for both Maricar and Mateo (played by Tonton Gutierrez and Miles Ocampo, respectively) seems like it would eventually become a source of conflict, but no meaningful conflict arises between mother and son, as any problems are quashed almost immediately. Whatever happens in the film feels very slight as a result. This isn't necessarily a bad thing for me, and to people who want to enjoy the character dynamic without any fuss, I think this slice of life approach will do just fine for them. 

The last act of the film veers into something quite different, when Maricar decides to continue the things she had to sacrifice in order to raise a family, but it comes out of nowhere (it would've helped if it was alluded to earlier) and it all feels a little underdeveloped.

Those looking for any dramatic stakes will no doubt find the film lacking and the premise thin, but as it is, while flawed, it isn't a bad time at the movies.

Sunday, December 24, 2023

MMFF 2023 | GomBurZa

 

What makes a martyr? Is it what they did in life that turns them into one? Is it what they stand for? Or is it something in between that makes them what they are? 

This story needs no spoiler warning because even if we don't know the specific details, we all know how this ends: three priests were executed in 1872 for allegedly fomenting rebellion against the Spanish colonial government. It's captured here in Pepe Diokno's GomBurZa in very precise detail: the film is very much concerned with adherence to historical events and accounts. Much of the first half is just talking; consisting of committees and meetings that don't exactly have the same momentum and drive of other historical films. That isn't exactly a bad thing. It exists in contrast to Jerrold Tarog's approach in his cinematic universe of local heroes, where emotions and themes drive the story forward.

Diokno's approach serves a threefold purpose: first, its emphasis on historicity places value on the nature of truth and truth-telling, in a world where 'alternative' historical accounts meant to serve a purpose fester in the internet and even this year, in cinema; second, in humanizing the three martyrs, they are not glorified in the same way many hagiographies do - they are not necessarily supermen or beings blessed with divine gifts - they are just people like you and me caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The third, and perhaps most important purpose to me stems from something that grew out of a number of conversations I had after watching the film. One point raised in those post-screening conversations is to ask: what exactly did these three men do to deserve such reverence, and how was it portrayed in this film? Gomez, Zamora and Burgos are passive characters in their own movie; things mostly happen to them instead of the other way around. Compared to other Filipino heroes from throughout history, GomBurZa did not lead battalions of soldiers or assassinate key historical figures at the expense of their own life. Instead, they taught their students the value of equality. They preached the word of their God in its purest form - he, after all, welcomed the sick, the poor, the free and the enslaved, the Samaritan and Jew in equal measure, that no man is above another. To the colonizer, nothing is more radical, because in true equality under God there are no hierarchies of race or status, and without hierarchies, how can the colonizer justify his subjugation?

Perhaps more important than the question of "what makes a martyr?" is "what does a martyr represent?" and in the last act, we are shown why these three sparked a revolution. The execution scene is wonderfully shot; possessing a somber tone, mostly absent the histrionics and drama, in a sky with no sun but still with light in the horizon (here, the 'blue hour' represents both twilight and dawn, the beginning and end of ages.) We are made to sit and watch with that audience in 1872 as three innocent men are killed for the ideas in their heads, and the experience is simply intense - the last act of the film is one of the best scenes in Philippine cinema for the year. In their final conversations before their execution, these martyrs-to-be converse about fate, answering the rhetoric of what action did they do to deserve such reverence - that is, their deaths are that action. Their deaths give their lives meaning and fulfillment, enabling them to achieve their dream of equality, of an identity as "Filipinos" - not by their own hand, but by the collective actions of the people they inspired. That's the essence of martyrdom. There's nothing more Christ-like than that, don't you think? Merry Christmas.